A wedding Story

I am a fan of rom-coms those are released during late 90’s or early 2000’s. Maybe I was a teenager and had a great faith in romantic love stories- that’s why. So now I am close to my 40s and still enjoy watching those cult movies. I was watching 27 dresses today- because I got a total lazy day in months. I am also waiting for my period to come and my period tracker says it is already 3 days late. I am having some pains on my inner thighs, lower abdomen and back but no period yet! Whatever while finishing the movie it reminded me of my own wedding.

I have noticed one thing- whenever I love a movie it reminds me of myself at some points. I was the elder daughter and sister and also arranged my little sisters’ wedding in a happy and positive way. But I was not so obsessed weddings at all but the foods. I come from a culture where weddings are the epitome of human existence. It is living like a princess in a fairy tale- you get all the attention, validity and jealousy- both from your surroundings. Especially the moms, aunties, sister-in-laws and married sisters- they get crazy! They will do all the nice things for you, cry and also wear the best sharees and jewelries themselves. There will be at least five to six events. So, technically you get to choose five to six looks for you as a bride and also be the center-point of the show. This is an amazing opportunity to look beautiful and it’s almost impossible to ignore it’s appeal in your early twenties. But I realized the hard truth through my life. I just learned- it’s not the wedding- it’s the person who you are getting married matters most. Nothing else matters. Does he accept you the way you are? Does he respect you? Is he ready to support you to your lowest? I realized those things matter most.

I waited for really long to have that in my life. For the first time in my bloodline I fell in love with a man of other nationality. I was the first girl who was in a living relationship with a man. Eventually she got engaged and married. I was so scared by all the negative experiences of my life that I did not share much about my wedding. I also could not manage someone who could do my wedding make up. So I had to do everything on my own. I draped my sharee in Bengali style because that’s how my grand moms and great-grand moms wore it. I did my own make-up, hairdo and henna beforehand my wedding. I also ordered my jewelry from my home country and I am really thankful to them to send me all of them on time.

Me – a person with really minimal make up skills- dared to do her own wedding make-up. So I did practiced, I tried everything beforehand. I was lucky that it was on my summer vacation. But somehow I managed everything in a averagish way. I was with my partner and he was always supportive to me. The day of our wedding, we got ready and went to the city-hall altogether. Our photographer was there and I was finally done with my responsibilities. I started crying- my would be husband tried to calm me down and when I saw his parents coming- I felt better. I had my tiny wedding where there were just fourteen people.

We arrived at a Bengali restaurant and had biryani. I loved my tiny tiny wedding. It was cute, intimate and without any drama. I had my tiny circle of friends whom I got there as an immigrant. I am thankful to life for giving me the chance to be with a person who agreed to be with me at my lowest.